


White Christmas

by rethrin



Category: Franklin & Bash
Genre: Christmas, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Snow and Ice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-02
Updated: 2012-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-10 22:57:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/471633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rethrin/pseuds/rethrin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for ficfest prompt: <em>Peter and Jared can't go home for Christmas, so Infeld offers them use of his cabin in the woods.  There they make their own Christmas in the solitude and snow.</em>  (Not very big on the h/c, mostly just lots of closeness and love.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Christmas

"Dude, if he is sending us into some sort of middle of nowhere to be hunted by psycho santas with machetes, we're quitting," Jared said as the track they'd turned onto grew thinner and windier, curving up the mountainside. 

Peter smiled. "I feel like Infeld knows people quite handy with a machete. We'd never be alive to quit at the end."

Jared nodded, resigned to that. "This is just his sort of thing. Secret thrills for bored rich people; hunting lawyers in the woods." He would have gone on, but he spotted a light through the trees. "Do you think that's it?"

"God, I hope so," Peter said. 

Sure enough the track turned them that way before too long, and they pulled up in front of a large cabin, christmas lights strung all around the roof, large model reindeer in the clearing in front, and smoke coming from the chimney. 

Peter's mom had rung him at work yesterday, during the Christmas party, to cancel all their plans. Dorothy Jennings was sick, so she was rushing off on a mission of mercy. Peter knew he shouldn't have been surprised, his mom had been rushing away to tend to old friends all his life. But this was Christmas, and it left him kind of stranded.

Infeld had immediately offered use of his cabin. He'd been planning to go there himself until he'd been invited to some spiritual rebirth in the desert instead. Peter had happily accepted, and started ringing round, confident he could find a date who would want to come away with him for a romantic weekend. But it was Christmas. So they all had plans. He ended up feeling like a loser who had no-one to spend Christmas with, begging for company. He'd soon given up and decided to stay home with Pindar instead. 

But that evening Jared had a phone call, which he'd taken in his room. And when he came back he casually offered to come with Peter himself. Peter had agreed immediately. Christmas with Jared would be so much better than chinese food with Pindar, and they hadn't been on holiday for months. Jared was quiet for most of the drive, but he didn't tell Peter whatever his dad had said, so Peter didn't ask.

They found the key hidden under an old wheelbarrow, just where Infeld had said, and opened the door. Peter smiled as the warm air greeted him, scented with spices and wood smoke. 

"Dude," Jared said, peering in behind him. " _Dude._ "

Peter agreed silently. They stared into a wide room, a large open fire to the right, with a tall, fully decorated Christmas tree next to it full of bright lights and sparkling baubles. There were comfortable settees, a large sideboard being used as a bar, a massive deer head on one wall, huge plasma screen tv on another. Oriental rugs, silver candlesticks, ornate fruit bowl on the table, an enormous flower display on the side. Peter's eyes flicked around the room trying to take it all in. The kitchen was to the left, champagne and glasses left out on the counter, huge range cooker along one wall. And then doors leading further back, to the bedrooms and bathroom.

Jared pushed inside. "Seriously, who puts chandeliers in a cabin?"

Peter looked up and sure enough the light was coming from two massive chandeliers hanging in the ridiculously high roof. He laughed and shook his head, he'd been quietly praying there would be power and running water, never mind champagne and flowers.

They dumped their stuff in the doorway. Jared went to play with the fire, poking at it and adding logs, while Peter went straight to the kitchen. He smiled when he opened the fridge, then again when he opened the larder. 

"We're definitely not going to starve," he said. 

There was a note by the champagne, presumably from the caretaker, wishing Infeld a Merry Christmas, and saying everything had been arranged as requested. Peter frowned at that, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

He made them up plates of ham, potato salad, devilled eggs, and a few other bits and pieces from the fridge. He took it over just as Jared had finished pouring them drinks, with added cherries, umbrellas and sparklers. They collapsed into the settee, flicked on the tv, and watched John McClane fighting bad guys, arguing, as always, about all the ways Rambo would have done it better. 

They spent the evening playing games, eating nearly all the mince pies from the larder, and getting pleasantly drunk on Infeld's ridiculously well stocked bar. Peter dreaded to think how much the whiskey they were drinking cost, but Infeld had told him to help himself to anything he found, and it was so smooth, so warm, and it made Jared sigh happily with every sip. Any guilt Peter might have felt melted away after the first couple of glasses.

  


* ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' *

  


They went to bed late, the fire had died down, it was cold, and the room had started to sway slightly. One of the bedrooms was just perfect, large with warm rugs over a wood floor, and a massive four-poster bed with heavy curtains around the sides. The other was full of boxes; they couldn't even get through the door.

Jared stopped and stared, then looked at Peter, puzzled, and back at the boxes. As if he thought maybe the whiskey was making him see things.

"Oh, yeah. Uh. Infeld said the other room would be . . like that. He thought I'd be bringing someone . . . you know, so it would look like I thought there were two rooms but there was just the one."

"Ah."

Jared looked at the floor, they stood between the two rooms, both swaying very slightly. Eventually Jared motioned towards the lounge. "I'll take the sofa then."

But he didn't move. 

"If you like. I mean, it's a big bed," Peter said carelessly, going into the other room.

He pulled back the curtains around the bed, and it was indeed big. It also had hundreds of petals laid out on the cover, in the shape of a heart. He saw Jared sort of wince, looking at it from the doorway. Peter frowned, wondering why this was so awkward; they were drunk enough that this shouldn't be awkward.

"It's not that big a deal," Peter said. "We've done it before."

"When we were kids."

"We were seventeen last time. And you were drunk then, too."

Jared half nodded, but he didn't smile. Jared had got drunk at some party, really drunk, and been sick and Peter had brought him home, smuggled him past his parents, and into his room. Peter didn't really know what had happened that night, but Jared always frowned when he brought it up. He kicked himself for doing it now, and watched Jared disappear to the bathroom. 

Peter got changed into pyjamas anyway, wanting to be decent on the off chance that Jared would come back. His head was spinning, and lying down sounded brilliant. He climbed into bed, and sank into heaven.

Jared did come back, just a few minutes later, and climbed carefully into the other side, swooshing some of the petals onto the floor as he did. He snuggled into the warm feather duvet, the smooth sheets, the soft pillows, and bounced slightly.

"Dude," he said. "It's like lying inside marshmallow."

Peter nodded, and wriggled comfortably. "Clouds."

"You know, if it's this comfy in heaven we should work harder to get there."

Peter rolled onto his side, so he could look at Jared properly.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"'bout heaven?" Jared asked, puzzled.

"About why you're not at home."

Jared gave an exaggerated frown. " _No_."

"Okay. I'm glad you're here anyway."

"Yeah." Jared smiled. "Can we take all the whiskey home?"

Peter nodded, absolutely. "He said I should help myself to anything."

"Dude, do you think we can take the bed."

Peter thought about it. "It could be our Christmas bonus, we've worked hard this year."

"And this time we don't have to share it with the orphans." 

"It won't fit in the bronco. We'd have to stay here. Refuse to leave." 

Jared smiled happily. "We could _hunt_ for food, like _men_ , live off the land."

Peter laughed, and hiccuped. "I don't think you can hunt for whiskey."

"You can. Whiskey beasts. We can harpoon them and drain them into bottles."

"I'm not drinking whiskey blood."

"You are! We're _men!_ We'll _bathe in it_."

They were both laughing now, because they were drunk and comfy and happy. 

"Your dad's an idiot, you know," Peter said, suddenly very serious.

"Yeah?"

Peter nodded, yes, and Jared kind of sighed and looked at his pillow.

"He rang to tell me not to be difficult about coming home, said I wasn't to start making a fuss, that mom didn't need _me_ making things hard like I _always_ do."

"He's a tool," Peter declared.

"I know." Jared didn't say anything for a second. "Then he texted to say mom was upset about me cancelling, that it was thoughtless of me." His face fell and Peter could see tears in his eyes, although he was mostly frustrated, not breaking down. "And I know it was. He just kept going on at me and I wasn't even home yet, there wasn't anything I could do. He'd have been awful when I got there, he just made it impossible."

"Dude, your mom knows, she knows it's more him than you. It's okay." Peter wanted to pull him tight for a hug, but they were in bed, and that made it weird. "You can call her tomorrow, we'll find a signal somewhere, and you can call her. I bet she's fine. We could go visit her in a couple of weeks. She'd rather see you when he's not around anyway."

"You'd come with me?" 

Peter nodded, and saw Jared feel a little bit better despite himself. Peter thought he must be very drunk indeed, because he wanted to kiss him. Just to make sure he was okay. He only really thought about kissing Jared when he was drunk. He'd taste of whiskey, he thought, distractedly. Or toothpaste.

"Did you brush your teeth?"

Jared laughed, "Are you sending reports home?"

Peter laughed too and couldn't remember why he'd asked. 

Jared turned away, to face the window, and Peter switched the light out. He closed his eyes and felt odd, but not bad odd. The whiskey was making him soft and sleepy anyway, as though parts of him had been asleep for hours, and the rest of him was going to catch up soon. But he felt something else as well. Sort of warm and calm, more comfortable than he'd been for years. It was probably just the whiskey, he thought, and the bed. Country air, maybe. He was asleep in moments. 

But he was woken up, maybe twenty minutes later. Jared burrowing into his side, pushing Peter's arm out of his way. 

"What the.."

"Shhhh. S'cold," Jared murmured, still mostly asleep. He shivered, pressing against Peter.

Peter moved to let him closer, rearranged himself without even thinking until Jared was wrapped in his arms, the covers up high, over Jared's head. Jared was fast asleep instantly. He was lying heavily against Peter's chest and Peter could feel his warm breath through the fabric of his pyjamas. He smiled and fell back into sleep, holding him tight as he dared.

  


* ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' *

  


Jared woke up warm and comfortable. His first thought was that Peter was right, they were sleeping in clouds, floating almost. He was warm, and he felt safe, which was strange because he wasn't ever not safe, not really. He sighed and didn't care and drifted back into sleep for a little while. Then he woke up a bit more, and thought distractedly that the clouds had arms and legs. And a heartbeat. Then he woke up properly and pulled away.

The cold of the sheets he moved into meant he regretted it immediately, but he moved resolutely to his own side of the bed, untangling himself from Peter's arms, grateful beyond belief that he'd woken up first. Again. Seventeen was nearly twenty years ago, and like Peter had said, he'd been drunk then too. Maybe it was a drunk thing. (Not that it was a thing. It was only twice.) He was sure it was possible for him to sleep near Peter without ending up wound around him. Probably. It just wasn't something he ever intended to test again. Tonight he was definitely sleeping on the couch.

The petals had spread everywhere, and there was one in Peter's hair. Jared ignored the urge to brush it away. And only just stopped himself moving back into Peter's arms, where it was warm and comfortable and . . . safe. He stayed where he was. Because that was Peter and Peter was . . . well, a guy, for one thing. And _Peter_. It wasn't that they didn't touch, because they did, and they hugged, but lying down made it different somehow. 

"Merry Christmas," Peter said, half yawning, and Jared hadn't even noticed him wake up. 

"Hey." Jared registered the words, it was Christmas. He smiled, even though he was thirty-five and it wasn't that important any more, especially this year, just him and Peter, but it was still Christmas. "Yeah, Merry Christmas."

"It's cold," Peter said, pulling the comforter tighter around him. "What time is it?"

"Early, go back to sleep."

Peter nodded, already on his way. After a few seconds he turned over, away from Jared, and Jared frowned at him. This was definitely just a him thing and not a Peter thing. (Not that it was a thing.) He frowned at himself for thinking about it, then for frowning about it, and then he frowned some more at the almost physical pain in his throat because it felt so wrong suddenly for Peter to move _away_ from him. He shook his head, it was probably a hangover or something.

He let Peter sleep and took his clothes to the bathroom to get dressed.

  


* ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' *

  


By the time Peter appeared in the kitchen Jared had arranged all their presents under the tree, and breakfast was ready. Peter leaned against the range, smiling happily as Jared dished up bacon and eggs, toast and coffee.

"You have christmas pyjamas," Jared said, noticing them for the first time. They were dark green with a snowflake pattern, they were warm and thick and soft. 

"From mom, last year," Peter said, and there was something in his voice that made Jared look closer at him.

"You okay? Not being there."

"Yeah. It's a bit odd, but," Peter shrugged, "This is nice, too. Did you see outside?" 

Jared nodded and saw Peter smiling again, harder than before. It had snowed over night, everything was covered with a thick blanket of white, it looked magical. Jared knew that deep at heart Peter was a seven year old who had been disappointed by winters in LA ever since they'd moved there. 

"There's an old sled out the back," Jared said. "We could take it out later."

Peter nodded happily and stole a piece of bacon. He brushed past Jared as he went to the fridge to get orange juice and champagne, and pressed against his arm as he poured their drinks. Jared casually moved away each time.

They ate breakfast and opened presents sitting on the floor by the tree. 

"Getting up when we like, presents as soon as we want them," Peter said. "It feels weird being a grown up at Christmas."

"Yeah, weird but good."

They both smiled, and started tearing off wrapping paper. Peter had bought Jared a copy of the _California Attorneys Rules of Professional Conduct and Other Related Rules and Codes_ , which Jared grinned at and then threw at him. And computer games, advanced release copies of the next instalments of his two favorite series. Jared stared at them in shock, holding them like they might explode.

"How did you?"

"I have ways and means."

"Paxton?"

Peter nodded, and Jared grinned. "Awesome." He glanced at the tv, wanting to set them up straight away, but he'd promised to go outside with Peter after this, so he'd wait.

Jared had bought Peter porn; his favourite actress in some of her rarer art-house films from the sixties, which Peter had never been able to find. Jared thought they looked terrible, but he knew that however much Peter loved Marisa Tomei, the fifteen year old inside him would die for Mindy Valena every time. Peter oohed and aahed over each disk in turn, clearly thrilled.

"That's tonight sorted," Jared said, grinning. 

"Video games, whiskey and porn," Peter said. "We should have been put in charge of Christmas years ago."

  


* ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' *

  


The sled was really old and heavy and at first it just got stuck in the snow, grinding to a halt every few metres. But when they got the hang of when to lean, how far to pull back on it, the weight just made it faster, and the snow bedded down quickly enough. The hill behind the cabin was perfect, a slow build, really steep in the middle, and just enough flat at the bottom to slow down. They took turns, cheering each other, and mocking any falls.

After a while Jared got bored waiting in the cold for Peter to reach the bottom and slog back up again, so he built a supply of snowballs while Peter was heading down, and pelted him on his way back up. Peter laughed, enjoying the challenge of dodging them, until one hit him half in the face, and Jared laughed, and suddenly the fight was on.

They spent a glorious few minutes in furious combat, chasing and dodging, yelling and laughing, knowing it was ridiculous, but not caring; they never had to care about being ridiculous when they were together. They exhausted themselves way too quickly though, and before long Jared made a run for the sled and escaped down the hill. 

"We should go down together," Peter said, when Jared got back. "It'll run faster." 

But Jared shook his head.

"We'd be too heavy."

Peter shrugged and set off, and Jared sat on a fallen tree, trying to pretend he wasn't thinking any of the things he was thinking. He definitely, for example, wasn't thinking about how it might be nice to sit with Peter on the sled, with Peter's arms around him. He wasn't wondering if Peter wanted that, if he'd like that too. He knew Peter was just being normal. And Jared hated that a little bit, because he didn't feel normal at all.

Peter dragged the sled back to the top, and sat next to Jared, catching his breath. Then he bumped him with his shoulder.

"You okay?"

Jared nodded.

"Let's go together, it'll be fast. You can drive."

"Okay."

It was more fun together. They did have to sit close, and Jared tried not to notice the feel of Peter's arms holding him, or how warm he was, or how easily they fit together. But the moment they pushed off he didn't have a chance to think about it anyway, it was faster, and they screamed and laughed, and a misjudged turn half way down threw them off in a tangled heap. 

Peter took the reins next time down, and they made it to the bottom. Peter pulled Jared to his feet, and brushed some of the snow off the front of his coat. Jared let him do it, and wondered if Peter always touched him this much, wondered how come usually he didn't notice. 

Their next time down they hit a patch of ice, twisted, and Peter fell off. Jared righted himself and checked behind to make sure Peter was okay. When he turned back he found he was heading in the wrong direction, it was steep, and he couldn't brake with his feet because there were rocks and branches on this part of the hill, he laughed with the speed and concentrated on keeping upright, heading for an empty flat piece of pristine snow where he could slow down. 

He swerved to a stop right in the middle of it, feeling pretty pleased with himself. It was a steeper hill, they should have been using it from the start. 

He was starting to get up when he heard the ice under the snow creaking. He had time for one really heartfelt curse before it cracked. 

The ice water felt like a vice gripping him, squeezing him, and his foot was caught in the sled. He had a few moments of total panic, kicking against it, feeling himself being dragged down. But then his feet hit the bottom, the water only half way up his chest. He saw Peter racing down the hill towards him, and called that he was okay, but his voice was barely there. The cold was excruciating.

He kicked until his foot came loose, then slipped and fell, and for an awful moment he was under water. He felt his heart racing, trying to make up for the drop in temperature, and it seemed to take him an age to orient himself and stand up again, just in time for Peter to reach the edge of the pool.

"Fuck. Are you okay? Here. Get out."

Jared was shivering too much to talk, struggling to breathe as the icy water pressed around him. He reached out a hand, and Peter took a step onto the thick ice at the edge of the pool, shuffling out as far as he dared, until he could reach Jared, and help pull him out of the water. Before he knew it Jared realised he was back on solid ground, buried in Peter's chest, being hugged tight.

"You'll get drenched," Jared said, his teeth chattering. His arms snaked around Peter, despite his words. He coughed and brought up some of the pond water he'd swallowed when he went under.

Peter stroked his back as he coughed. Then he stepped away as long as it took to take off his coat and wrap it around Jared's shoulders, pulling him close against him again. After a minute he swore lightly and kissed Jared's forehead, and Jared knew he'd been really scared. 

"Come on, we've got to get you inside," Peter said, resting his forehead against Jared's for a second, looking at him closely.

Jared looked at Peter's mouth, and couldn't remember where he was. 

He was shaking. And he was fairly confident it was the cold, and the shock, and not just Peter touching him. Probably this now was hypothermia, making him want this, and he'd be fine when he was warmer, he'd stop thinking about maybe possibly kissing his best friend. But, he thought, feeling light headed, dizzy, it wasn't that strange to think about. Peter kissed lots of people. Why shouldn't he kiss Jared as well?

"Are you hurt?" Peter asked, interrupting Jared's thoughts. He went to move Jared away, and Jared shook his head because he didn't want to go. Peter took it as an answer that he wasn't hurt, and started urging him towards the cabin. 

Jared stumbled a bit, but Peter kept him steady, one arm around his waist, and the other under his elbow. 

It wasn't that far, and walking helped, Jared started to sort his thoughts a little more clearly, and moving brought the feeling back into his legs and arms. The cabin was gloriously warm and bright, Jared breathed in the warm air gratefully.

Peter took his coat off Jared's shoulders, then helped him out of his own, taking his gloves and scarf with it. He went to move Jared's sweater as well, but Jared stepped back and did it himself. He was mostly relieved when Peter let him go; only mildly distraught somewhere at the back of his mind that Peter wasn't going to keep hold of him forever. He left his t-shirt on underneath, even though it was as wet and cold as everything else. 

"I'll, um, go have a shower," he said, only stuttering slightly.

Peter sort of moved towards him, but nodded. "Not too hot, though, just warm. Call me, if you need anything, yeah?"

Jared nodded, and squelched off to the bathroom. 

When he came back Peter had lit the fire, and pulled one of the arm chairs right up in front of it. Jared finished rubbing a towel through his hair, and smiled at Peter who was busy taking trays and bowls and pans out of the fridge. 

"I stole your Christmas sweater," Jared said. He'd only packed one warm sweater of his own, and now it was soaked. 

Peter looked over at him and chuckled. "Nice."

He'd unwrapped it this morning, from his great aunt. It was light blue, with small snowmen around the edge, and reindeer racing around the middle. It was a terrible sweater, and not made any better by being a few sizes too big for Jared. But it was soft and warm. Jared had pulled it on over his pyjamas, because he'd decided that falling through ice was one of the better excuses for lazing around in pjs all day. Not that he'd need an excuse. Avoiding family at Christmas had definite advantages. 

"You okay?" Peter asked, as Jared went over to the fire.

"Yeah, I'm good. I was only in there for a second."

Peter came over and gave him a cup of coffee and a thick slice of cake. He put the back of his fingers against Jared's cheek, and Jared pushed him away gently. 

"I feel fine, Peter, I'll just sit for a while." 

"You'll tell me if anything's wrong?" 

Jared nodded and Peter went back to the kitchen. 

Jared curled up in the chair Peter had set up for him. The shower had made him dizzy, he'd let it run a little too hot. He rested his head on the chair and watched for a few minutes while Peter arranged things on the kitchen counter.

"You're going to cook?"

Peter nodded, distracted.

"Christmas dinner?"

Another nod.

"Is that something you can do?"

A grin and another steady nod.

"It's all ready and labelled with times and temperatures," Peter said. "It should be a breeze. Easiest Christmas ever."

"Speak for yourself, I almost drowned."

Peter scoffed. "It wasn't even as deep as you."

"It was cold."

"I put some brandy in your coffee."

Jared grinned at that and took a sip, the hot liquid moving through him felt like heaven, and he drank some more. 

"You want any help?" he asked, fairly confident Peter wouldn't actually make him get up again. He was right, Peter shook his head.

  


* ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' *

  


There wasn't that much actual cooking involved after the first half hour or so, so Peter came to crash on the couch and watch some tv. He brought Jared a bowl of soup. Jared took it off him, with a confused frown.

"You need something warm."

Jared smiled at him like he was an idiot. "I'm fine, it was just for a second."

"I know, just eat it."

Jared came over to sit on the couch with him. They found Miracle on 34th Street, which Jared's mom made his family watch every year, so they settled in for that. Jared ate his soup, his hands wrapped around the bowl, holding it close to his face for the warmth from the steam. He was sitting at the opposite end of the couch, miles away, and Peter frowned because he didn't understand why. 

When he finished his soup Jared rolled the sleeves of the sweater down over his hands, and pulled it tight around him, snuggling into the cushions of the settee. Peter tried to keep his eyes on the tv, but every time Jared moved he glanced at him without meaning to, checking he was okay. And he knew Jared noticed. 

He waited until his first kitchen timer went off, and when he'd moved things around in the cooker he fetched a heavy blanket from the bedroom. He threw it to Jared, with a look that said he didn't care if he was being stupid. Jared didn't mock him, though. He just half nodded a half thank you, and wrapped it around himself. 

Peter sat down back on his side of the sofa, only slightly closer to Jared than before. That was a pattern he kept up every time he had to go to the kitchen, and Jared slowly shifted closer towards him as well. By the time the movie ended they were both more in the middle of the settee than at either end. And Jared was half asleep. 

Peter reached out without even thinking, to pull his blanket up, over his shoulder. Jared let him, and Peter stroked his fingers quickly against Jared's neck, hoping it seemed accidental, not like he was checking. He was warm, and Peter breathed a bit easier. 

As Jared fell further asleep Peter eased closer to him, until eventually Jared was leaning more on him than on the sofa. Peter felt something deep inside him relax as it registered Jared there beside him. It was something Peter was noticing more and more often; a tension when they were apart, when he hadn't seen him for a while. Touched him for a while. Peter half knew what it was, but it was so much easier pretending he didn't. 

After a minute Jared settled in even firmer against him, and Peter brushed his fingers over the back of his neck. He was colder there, his hair still slightly damp. Peter stroked him and pulled the sweater higher. He flicked around and found the last half of a western to watch, and he ignored the next two alarms for the kitchen. Half an hour or so wouldn't make that much difference to when they could eat and he didn't want to wake Jared. Didn't want to leave him either.

  


* ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' *

  


They spent most of the rest of the day eating. The food was seriously good, and they ate seriously too much of it, and then a little bit more. Then they waited an hour before they ate too much dessert as well. Peter watched Jared carefully, the food seemed to help, he seemed more himself, less shaky.

They played video games for a while, and watched more tv. They spent half an hour or so holding their mobile phones in every corner of every room, and out of all the windows, searching hopelessly for a signal so they could ring their families. It came to nothing, though, and they gave up. Mostly they just chatted and argued, picked at leftovers and lounged around. Jared sighed a little bit about the waste of a night not drinking alcohol, but Peter told him he'd be an idiot to drink this quickly after a shock like that, and he didn't argue too hard.

  


* ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' * ' *

  


Jared woke up as Peter lay him down on the bed, and he took a moment to focus his eyes, to work out what was going on. He pulled his arms from around Peter's neck.

"You _carried_ me," he said, half a realisation, and half accusation.

"You weren't s'posed to wake up," Peter said judgily, with only a small side of apology. He let go and went to draw the curtains around the bed, climbing back inside before shutting them in.

"What time is it?"

"Just gone ten, but you fell asleep again, you should rest."

Jared vaguely knew he was meant to be sleeping on the sofa, that was his plan, but Peter lay down again right next to him, and started pulling the covers over them, and the bed was like heaven, and Peter wasn't moving away, and Jared felt sleepy and he just wanted to stay where he was. Where Peter had put him.

Peter started settling down next to him, and Jared found he was holding his breath. He stroked Peter's arm. "Are we going to sleep here? Like this?"

Peter stopped moving. "Is that okay?"

Jared closed his eyes and nodded. Peter tugged him in closer to him, and Jared settled happily against his chest.

"That was nice," Jared said. 

"Hm?"

"Having Christmas with you."

Peter stroked a hand through Jared's hair. 

"Yeah."

"Don't see why usually we spend all year together but then split up for the important days," Jared said, a little bit slurred with sleep.

Peter was quiet for long enough that Jared thought he must have said something wrong, but then he stroked the back of Jared's neck, and said, "I don't know why, either." 

Then he brushed his lips over Jared's temple. Jared didn't even think, he just lifted his head and kissed Peter's mouth. 

He let it last a second too long before he pulled away. He murmured sorry, not knowing if he should be really, it wasn't really anything, he shouldn't make it a big deal, because it was just a good night kiss, he'd probably kissed Peter like that before. He tried to remember if he'd ever kissed Peter before.

Peter kissed him back. 

Jared suddenly didn't feel very sleepy at all. He kept his eyes closed, and dropped his head, trying to breathe and work out what was happening.

"You kissed me," he said.

"You kissed me first."

Jared frowned, but then he nodded because actually that was true. Probably. He forced himself to look up, into Peter's eyes. 

"Is that bad?"

Peter shook his head gently, and bent down, and kissed Jared again. Jared felt him hesitate for a moment, then his tongue licked gently over Jared's lip before he moved away. Jared grinned and Peter smiled back at him.

"I wanted to kiss you all day," Jared said, it felt like he'd been keeping it a secret, and he hated keeping secrets from Peter.

"Yeah?"

Jared nodded, looking at Peter's mouth again.

"I've been looking forward to this since the morning." Peter hugged him a little tighter. "Sleeping here like this again."

Jared felt his insides tying themselves in knots while he tried to sort out all the ways he liked that.

He tugged Peter down to kiss him again. Neither of them pulled away quickly this time, but they weren't very brave with each other either. Jared hadn't kissed anyone so nervously, or so softly, since he was fifteen. But he was shaking, and kept forgetting to breathe, and he thought if Peter kissed him properly he might actually melt away, because it was good. It was _really_ good. And Peter moaned every time Jared's tongue touched him just _there_ and Jared liked that, he wanted that. He pressed close and Peter's arms wrapped around him, holding him tight.

When they stopped they were both breathing heavily. Jared hoped like hell that Peter knew what they were doing. Because he didn't. 

"You okay?" 

Jared wanted to laugh at that because it was a crazy question, he had absolutely no idea. He felt like he'd jumped out of a plane, and there was air rushing past him at a million miles an hour. He was plummeting and he didn't have a single backup plan if Peter wasn't there to catch him. 

"I don't know what we're doing," he said as quietly as he could.

Peter stroked the back of his neck. "It's an Earth thing, called kissing."

Jared snorted, and they both sort of almost laughed. 

"Is that all it is?" Jared asked, still very quiet, more scared than he wanted to think about.

Peter shook his head very very slightly, and Jared's whole body shook with relief and love. He smiled widely, and reached for another kiss. 

Peter rolled them over slightly this time, pressing Jared down into the soft mattress, lying half over him, kissing him with the same ridiculous soft kiss as before. Except now he had one hand on Jared's hip, and Jared could feel the heat from it through his pyjamas, he pressed up into the touch; it felt amazing, it made Jared want . . . he wanted to beg for things. Peter deepened the kiss, and Jared moaned, and for a while he lost track of up and down and time and space. 

He kind of assumed they would just kiss forever now, because he couldn't imagine stopping. So he moaned as Peter pulled away from him, confused. He looked up, more than a little dazed, and then froze at the expression on Peter's face.

"What's wrong?" he asked, although he knew exactly what Peter was going to say. 

"I just, I don't want this-"

Jared nodded, okay, but he knew his face was giving lie to that. Nothing was okay. Peter was still holding him down. He tried to turn away, and tried to say something about it being fine, but Peter ignored him.

"Jare. No." He almost smiled, and Jared hated him, except then he kissed him again, and Jared couldn't help but kiss him back, desperate for that touch again. "Fuck, Jared. I was just saying, I don't want this to be something we do, you know, by mistake."

"Oh." 

"Course I _want_ this." His expression forcefully suggested that Jared was an idiot.

"Oh." Jared smiled several different smiles at once, and stroked Peter's arm. "Thank god."

Peter put his lips against Jared's forehead and spoke quietly. "I don't want it to be something we rush into."

"We've taken twenty years," Jared said, although he knew what Peter meant. 

Peter smiled. "You know what I mean," he said. And when he went on his voice was quiet, and undercut with a layer of fear. "This, it's important. I want us to think about it."

Jared felt a flicker of fear, part of him screaming that Peter was just asking for time to talk himself out of it, that he'd decide he didn't want it after all. But a bigger part of him simply knew better. He nodded, and pulled at Peter until he could kiss him again, slow and steady. Turned out that kissing Peter didn't leave room for many doubts in Jared's mind.

When Peter pulled away this time Jared pushed him back to his side. If Peter wanted to be not rushing things right now, then he needed to not be lying on top of him. 

Jared moved with him though, and he kissed Peter's collar bone gently, snuggling in to him, keeping warm, keeping close. Peter's arm was heavy around him, holding him. He felt . . . small. He'd been to bed with women who were taller than him, even as tall as Peter, but Peter was broad, and the arm that was holding him felt so strong and steady, and Jared couldn't believe he was lying in Peter's arms thinking about how tall and strong he was. But he was. And it felt amazing.

"It doesn't feel like a mistake," he said quietly and felt Peter smile.

Jared smiled too and closed his eyes, feeling sleepy again and almost ridiculously happy. Just a little bit safe. 

They cuddled for a long while, not needing to talk, getting used to holding each other like this. Jared could hear rain and wind outside, but it seemed a long way away. With the curtains drawn around the bed it felt like he and Peter were apart from the world, floating somewhere. Jared smiled at the idea of his world shrinking until it was just Peter; then he thought about it and really his whole world had been Peter for a long time now, he'd just never put it into words before.

He wanted to stay awake forever, lying here like this. But Peter's pyjamas were soft against his cheek, and the way Peter moved as he breathed, the way his hand stroked Jared's back, it felt like some kind of hypnosis. With every breath Jared felt himself drifting away.

"M'gonna sleep," he said. 

Peter's fingers stroked through Jared's hair, and he kissed the top of his head. 

"Okay. But stay here. Don't disappear this time," he said. 

Jared shook his head, promising he wouldn't. He wasn't planning to move one inch further away from Peter than absolutely necessary ever again.


End file.
